


into darkness fell her star

by esmeraldablazingsky



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 'I'm about to die' musings brought to you by the last high king of the noldor, Finduilas Is Gil-galad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmeraldablazingsky/pseuds/esmeraldablazingsky
Summary: There would be no stone for Ereinion Gil-galad, no stone for Finduilas. That was fine. Her mark was not a monument.





	into darkness fell her star

The air was thick and tasted like iron, volcanic rocks lay in grotesque twisted heaps all around, and Gil-galad was alone. Something was burning and maybe it was him, but it was okay, Sauron was defeated and the Alliance had succeeded, for now. 

He had made it this far, anyway. The slopes of Orodruin were a terrible place to die, but Gil-galad couldn’t help a certain measure of pride despite his broken body and the creeping knowledge that here it would remain. He would not be found, and he would be swallowed by the dark. 

He’d done well, he told himself. He’d fought and he’d led and he had _inspired,_ and at the end of all things, it was enough. 

Gil-galad let his head fall back against the ground, dark hair singed and matted with blood where it fanned out around him, and the armor he had worn for so long suddenly felt ill-fitting. It belonged to the person who glowed like a beacon for all to follow, and here there were no eyes to see him. 

The armor did not belong to Finduilas Faelivrin. 

It didn’t, and yet in a way, it belonged to her more than it did to Gil-galad. She was the one who shaped herself to fit the mold of a king, who held her snowpoint spear until it gleamed like the star she wore on her brow, and Gil-galad was simply the name, the face, the spirit she wore along with the carefully wrought metal plating. 

Now, Finduilas was here. All the pain that rested on the broader shoulders of Gil-galad now made its way to her, and she found, to her surprise, that she had been able to carry it all along. 

Maybe she hadn’t been the one to need a mask. Maybe it was everyone else, maybe it was the Elves and Men who had watched her with her light reflecting in their eyes, maybe it was no one and Gil-galad had been nothing but an unnecessary but comforting illusion. But it didn’t matter now. The comforting illusion had done what he needed to do, and Finduilas was free to go.

She pulled the gem away from her forehead and closed her hand around it, taking in its warm glow through numb fingers. This was her Star of Radiance, the light of Finduilas by another name, and she was well aware of the fault lines along which it was starting to crack. 

Finduilas had been to Túrin’s grave, seen the shards of Gurthang where they lay atop it somehow smaller than she remembered them, and she wondered if anyone would ever see her broken crystal or her shattered spear. 

Or not. She did not expect and did not hope for anyone to follow her here. 

There had been a great stone, too, above Túrin and his sister, solemn and imposing and yet doing so little justice to its remembered. 

It didn’t even have the names Finduilas knew, and she had traced _Agarwaen Adanedhel Thurin_ on the surface with her finger. 

There would be no stone for Ereinion Gil-galad, no stone for Finduilas. That was fine. Her mark was not a monument. 

Words came unbidden, and she swallowed blood to say them, holding onto the pain that came with as if it would tether her to her fearless heart. 

“My body is marred beyond healing, and I must leave Middle-Earth,” whispered Finduilas to what she could see of the sulfurous sky. 

That was it. The world knew that she knew she would die, and the air grew soft and warm as if it was no longer trying to convince her. 

She was cold now, even so close to the fires Sauron had left behind. She was not the sun, had never been brighter than maybe a particularly prominent pinprick of light in the endless sky, but that was well by her. The death of the sun threw the world into night, but the failing of the stars brought only glorious morning. 

Finduilas closed her eyes, and Gil-galad curled his fingers around what was left of his spear, and the star they shared went out in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> fucj sorry about. all of this


End file.
